


One Goddamned Chance

by Fangirl0



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (don't worry the twinkie's not involved in weird stuff), (it simply exists), Anal, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Kink Meme, Love Confessions, M/M, Pudge, Short, Smut, Twinkies, Updated Fic, star trek kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 20:10:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3353741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl0/pseuds/Fangirl0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Star Trek XI Kink Meme on May 2, 2010 and technically set in the alternate universe movie canon. I decided to update it just a bit and post it here on AO3. The prompt is in the opening notes.</p><p>Kirk's eating habits have become poorer than usual and McCoy is not prepared to stand for the captain sending himself to an early grave, especially not when McCoy wants to have more to their relationship than what they already have. It's not something he wanted to blurt out in a desperate fit, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Goddamned Chance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and posted this short fic some years ago in the Star Trek Kink Meme on livejournal with the title "Pudge Love" in regards to the prompted subject. I decided to rename this after one of McCoy's lines in the fic itself. This is a slightly updated but still not beta-ed version of original fic that I had posted.
> 
> This is the original prompt that I had responded to (it also has a line that I used directly in the fic itself):
> 
> Jim will eat anything.  
> Bones spends more time than is reasonable or maybe even than is healthy trying to get him to improve his diet, because, “Aw, for fuck's sake, Jim, red meat is one thing, but what the hell is a Twinkie, why is the damn thing on a stick, and Jesus Christ that fucker is deep-fried in animal fat!”  
> Jim: Yeah, but it's soooo good! And it's my body, you ass.  
> Finally, Bones snaps and explains that actually, yeah, it's Jim's body, but he has a vested interest in making sure he gets to forty alive because he figures by then Jim will slow down enough that he'll have a goddamn chance with him.  
> And then there is awkwardness, but eventually Bones notices that Jim is eating better.  
> And then once they figure out how not to be idiots at each other, there is sweet happy sexing. And Jim has a little bit of pudginess going on, and he's all, no, I'm working on that! and Bones is all *nuzzles it*  
> I really really want the nuzzles. *blush*

Doctor McCoy believed himself to be a patient enough man- hell, he thought himself a downright _gentleman_ despite what his ex may claim- but he could only take so much crap. This was one of the repeat offenders against his nerves, no less.  
  
James T. Kirk, that one and only suicidally reckless captain, was going to be the death of McCoy as well as himself. McCoy was painfully aware of it. If it wasn’t going to be from the habit of hopping into any shitty hole-in-the-wall bar on shore leave, the constant fights with unknown but typically strong as fuck beings, or jumping headlong into contact with every possible allergen in the universe, then the thing that would make Kirk's life a flash in the pan was undoubtedly going to be the offending object McCoy swiped from his hand to scrutinize with disgust. “Aw, for fuck's sake, Jim. Red meat is one thing, but what the hell is a Twinkie, why is the damn thing on a stick, and Jesus Christ that fucker is deep-fried in animal fat!”  
  
“C’mon, Bones,” Kirk said, almost pouting at the fact that the nutritional equivalent of plastic on a stick was so forcefully parted from him. “Don’t be an ass. It’s my body and I’m the captain here, in case you forgot.”  
  
Typical childish response, but McCoy was more than used to that. No matter how much begging or simpering Kirk tried, he was not getting that Twinkie back unless he pried it from McCoy’s cold, dead hands. In hindsight, the snack's name did sound familiar, but not enough for McCoy to believe that they were still in production; maybe they still could be, but certainly not in widespread distribution. The thought that the treat could be ancient on top of already being confirmed as ludicrous amounts of empty calories had McCoy's jaw clenching.  
  
“Like you would let any crew member forget,” McCoy said with a scoff. No one needed a reminder with the circus of events that got Kirk a captaincy in the first place but the man never stopped with his stunts, willing and able to do things that would no doubt always leave everyone in awe. “But, Jim, this... _thing_ will definitely kill you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that your diet is shot all to hell. When was the last time you even _looked_ at a vegetable?”  
  
Kirk eyed the Twinkie longingly. “You know it’s not a big deal. I’m perfectly fine.”  
  
“For how long?” Bones asked, trying to keep the tension from his voice as he dumped the Twinkie into a nearby disposal chute where it belonged. “Five years? Maybe eight if we’re goddamned lucky?”  
  
“Hey! Don’t you think you’re-?”  
  
“I’m not overreacting, Jim! It’s your body, but I really would prefer to have you live until you’re _at least_ forty! Maybe by then, you’ll slow down enough for me to have one goddamned chance with you!” McCoy froze when his own words reached him.  
  
 _Oh, shit._  
  
Kirk was mirroring the doctor’s own gaping expression. Taking Jim by surprise for once would have been immensely satisfying in any other situation that came to mind. As things stood, it was some small favor to McCoy's pride that no one else was around to have heard that outburst... or at least no one was at any vantage point where they could be seen reacting to it.  
  
A voice came on the PA system, jolting both of them into some semblance of awareness, and said, “Lieutenant Sulu speaking. Requesting Captain Kirk on the bridge.”  
  
The captain slowly approached the wall-mounted comm unit and pressed a certain button configuration to reply, unable to tear his eyes from his mortified friend yet as he said, “Kirk here... Acknowledged. I’m coming.”  
  
 _Don’t let him go, Len._ McCoy swallowed awkwardly, not entirely sure of how to reassure Jim that it wasn’t a big deal. He would be lying if he said that sort of thing, exactly like Kirk had tried only moments ago with that stick of lard and sugar, _but that look on Jim's face right then..._ Losing their friendship wasn’t worth the old hope of a little philandering. There wasn't anything worth losing what they already had.  
  
Unfortunately, McCoy was too slow- the captain already broke eye contact and abruptly strode away to the turbolift. McCoy could only hope that whatever the issue was didn't force the captain to visit the sickbay. As much as he would stay the professional he was for Kirk's health, bar a certain amount of berating for his own peace of mind (and he found it professional enough against a force like Jim Kirk), he's not sure he could handle seeing Kirk beaten and bloody after that uncomfortable talk.  
  
***  
  
Around a week later, Kirk and McCoy were still awkwardly dancing around prolonged time in each others’ presence. The most contact had been mere minutes ago a hypo of antihistamine and an understated (for McCoy’s track-record) warning for the captain to take better care of limiting his exposure to pollens. Kirk agreed, eying the door the entire time, while McCoy pretended to be as detached and professional as a certain green-blooded hobgoblin they knew. McCoy's not sure he's ever seriously seen a grown man scurry away, but there it had been.  
  
The doctor sat at his desk, rubbing his temples and bloodshot eyes as he thought of how cowardly he was, but that fucking stupid Twinkie incident had definitely not been worth it. And now, Nurse Chapel had hidden his bourbon somewhere other than the desk drawer where he regularly stashed it. How did she even get in there? He’d find it again later, of course, but he was in no mood to hunt it down at the time. He pulled up the diet readings for the crew members to distract himself, noting trends of improvement or decline amongst them. Uhura was doing well. Scotty was subsisting on sandwiches and coffee, of course. McCoy knew he was doing fine himself, besides his penchant for drinking after certain situations and he found himself off duty.  
  
He inspected the list carefully before all that was left was to reluctantly move his line of sight to Kirk’s readings and... _What is this?_ Salads... fruit... cutting down on the red meats, and (he savored the next observation in particular) nothing deep-fried or cream-filled. _I’ll be damned! He actually listened to my advice._ Bones would never admit it out loud, but he almost felt giddy at the revelation. Jim listened to him then, so maybe he would listen just as well to McCoy's attempts to amend things. Now all he needed was to find his bourbon again.  
  
***  
  
Kirk stretched on his bed, grateful for the small break from his duties. He was far too distracted lately, thinking over the week and his new habit of avoiding the doctor whenever humanly possible. It was difficult to avoid med-bay visits with his danger-prone ways... and maybe even harder to avoid the friend and confidant he always had in good ol' Bones.  
  
It hadn’t taken long for Jim to discover after his initial shock and awkwardness that he actually wanted to try out a relationship with McCoy... but with how cold the doctor was lately, he obviously lost his chance, right? All seeing his dear friend did now was give him a guilt-trip.  
  
McCoy didn’t even note that Kirk was in fact eating better- not that he was only doing it for the grumpy doctor. Much as he disliked admitting it, Bones had a point. Kirk took the moment to frown at the pudge on his belly. He really had let himself go...  
  
The door to his quarters smoothly slid open with only the whisper of a sound. “Evenin’, Jim.” McCoy's voice was a relaxed enough drawl as he walked in, holding his bottle of bourbon. “Want to talk?”  
  
Kirk bolted up into a sitting position and nodded without even thinking. He watched and secretly puzzled over the change in attitude as the doctor poured two glasses.  
  
“Good... I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but dammit, I’m not a mind-reader and I couldn’t find the right time,” McCoy said, forcing a little chuckle as he moved to offer Kirk a glass.  
  
“Same here, Bones.” Kirk managed a small grin to see the attempt at their old style of banter before switching to a more serious expression. It resembled the way the captain looked as he went forward with his borderline-insane plans to save the Enterprise and crew from whatever danger-of-the-week befell them. He didn't move for the glass held out to him yet, but he knew Bones wouldn't take offense. “But before you say anything, I just need to say that I was being stupid. I know it’s too late, but I wish I could’ve given... well, us, a shot.”  
  
McCoy placed the glasses down and blinked in bewilderment. “Too late? What?”  
  
He resisted the urge to grumble and merely shook his head, advancing on his captain and practically yanking Jim off of the bed and into a kiss before he could even form a response. It didn't take more than a moment of mentally putting the pieces together for Kirk to lean into the contact, reciprocating the kiss and all of the affection in it. McCoy ran his tongue along the seam of Kirk’s lips, parting them a tad more to get a better taste of him. It was good and Kirk was more than happy to oblige, trying to stake his own dominance in the hungry kisses.  
  
They only let go of one another when the oxygen deprivation, and other things, finally made them dizzy. McCoy leaned heavily onto Kirk, panting heavily as he said, “Hell no... If I was going to give up on you because you did something stupid, I wouldn’t have stuck around even half this long.”  
  
Jim gave a breathy laugh at that. It was a relief, feeling McCoy's forehead pressed against his own. “Good point. What would I do without you, Len?”  
  
The doctor suppressed a small groan. “Don’t call me that, Jim. I might just jump you."  
  
Jim flashed a shit-eating grin that easily had McCoy on edge for some incoming mischief. “ _Personally_ , I wouldn’t mind jumping Bones.” He just couldn't resist a golden opportunity for a pun like that.  
  
McCoy’s fingers twitched for a hypo. He didn’t have one on him and was still in far too good of a mood to go through with waiting for some allergic reaction or other emergency to actually merit a sticking. He settled for pressing the tent in his pants against Kirk’s thigh while flashing a warning look. That pun had been unbearable, so Bones could only hope the gesture would make Kirk less of a buzzkill.  
  
The captain cracked up at the new opportunity presented to him. “Is that a hypo in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”  
  
“Goddamn it, Jim!” Bones pushed his captain onto the bed and held down his arms by the wrists. “One more word from you and you’re not getting any.”  
  
Jim bit his lip in a half-hearted attempt to hide a smile and chuckled, but he humored the older man and didn’t say another word. He settled for making a show of writhing under McCoy’s grip and damn if the doctor wasn’t human enough to want more of the sight.  
  
“You better have some lube squirreled away somewhere if you're as eager as I am. And if there's any hang-ups, then you say so. Whenever you need to. This will only happen if you want it, too.” He leaned over and messily kissed along Kirk’s neck, waiting patiently as he could for a reply.  
  
“Ah- third drawer of the nightstand. I've been wanting... It's a hell yes,” Jim said, arching to prolong their close contact for as long as he could manage while McCoy leaned over to retrieve the small tube.  
  
“Good to hear, Jim.” Bones settled back near Jim and yanked his own uniform shirt off, watching with interest as the captain eagerly did the same. He couldn’t help but note the leftover gut from the past lack of dietary restraint, if a week could even be considered the past when it came to lifestyle changes. He did owe Jim another round of teasing, so it was at least some small amount of fodder. “Looks like those Twinkies got to you.”  
  
Kirk blushed, honest to god blushed, but was able to retain his cool besides that. “Hey, I’m working on it, Bones. You should know that.”  
  
“Mm. I do.” McCoy grunted and leaned in, nuzzling the softness of Kirk’s stomach. He almost didn’t want to tell the younger man that it felt nice. Almost. “Truth be told, you feel good.”  
  
Not that McCoy was shocked, with how many people Kirk managed to drag into his quarters even up until close to that Twinkie incident. He conveniently failed to mention that his cock had actually jumped at the feel of his captain’s belly. Kirk would probably assume that McCoy found that soft pudge settled over pliant muscle to be sexy. It was partially true, but there was no way was he going to let Jim gorge himself on that crap again for the sake of some added softness. Jim would be best in whatever shape was the healthiest.  
  
Kirk writhed out of his pants impatiently, exposing his erection to the cool air of his quarters and the doctor’s gaze as his stomach fluttered from McCoy’s attention. “Len.”  
  
How could he fight against that? McCoy tossed off his own remainder of clothing and squirted a generous glob of lube onto his fingers. “Alright, darlin’. No more teasing.” Or at least not verbally.  
  
Once the lube had warmed up at least a little, he swirled a slicked finger around his captain’s anus. He knew Kirk had some experience with this, showing more than a little glimpse of a bisexual streak back in the academy, but it wasn’t often enough for Bones not to want to be thorough. And there was always something so pleasurable in taking it slow. He pressed a thick index finger into Jim, bending and sliding it tortuously slow.  
  
“C’mon.” Jim groaned and canted his hips impatiently to the appendage opening him up. “No more teasing, remember?”  
  
McCoy added a finger to try and appease him. Bones wanted to make this incredible for his new lover, even if it drove them both crazy. He kissed Kirk’s nape as he thrust his fingers into that reckless enticing man under him and sighed. “You’ll thank me for this later.”  And long for more.  
  
McCoy would eagerly oblige... after several dates; after all, he was a gentleman and he wanted to have Jim in this new way more than anything. Bones was going to do right by Kirk and give him some romance and building anticipation, not to mention some time to settle into whatever new rhythm their lives were taking with the change in their relationship. McCoy also pointedly resolved to make sure that any future mix-ups were swiftly settled out instead of stewing between them and caused more misunderstandings like his surprise confession had. He was not going to let their relationship, whatever it became, be a romantic comedy for the crew's entertainment and Kirk wouldn't need the potential added stress.  
  
Focused back on Kirk underneath him, he added a third finger while grasping his own erection. That probably was not a good idea with him painfully hard just from the sight of his captain squirming and groaning, but hell if he was in his right mind anymore. Then, something Bones could have only vaguely wondered over happened.  
  
“Please,” Jim said in rough voice. He ground against the fingers, his erection pulsing from a graze against his prostate.  
  
 _Shit, Jim's begging for it._ Leonard slicked himself up and pushed into his captain, whispering praises and dirty expositions in a strangely compelling combination. “Good boy. You really want it, don’t you? So good, darlin’. Wanna fuck you over and over. Make you scream loud enough for the whole damn crew to hear.”  
  
Jim groaned and pulled the doctor closer, sorely wanting more. “Shit, you’re kinkier than I thought.” He hoped even in his hazy mindset that Len didn’t catch the accidental hint that he actually _thought_ about him in bed before to have some solid theories in place. Jim always was a little curious about his crew members, even if he normally wouldn’t act on it. Hell, he never thought about it as deeply for anyone else but, after Bones's outburst, it was difficult (and far too pleasant) to avoid.  
  
If McCoy noticed, he brought no attention to it, slowly pulling out and thrusting back into Jim with a grunt. It was too amazing for either of them to notice anything else now. It didn’t take long for Bones’ thrusts to speed up at Jim’s own insistence and the doctor rode him for all they were worth.  
  
The doctor came first, unloading into Kirk and leaning down to give Jim a fierce kiss. He stroked Jim’s dripping cock and thrust in a few more times to finish him off, earning a satisfied moan. They collapsed next to one another on the bed and cuddled as they enjoyed the blissful haze.  
  
“That... was amazing,” Kirk said after he found his ability to speak again.  
  
“Couldn’t put it better myself,” McCoy said, pulling Jim closer. “And I'm thinking tomorrow's good for a first date... Our first date. You got time, right?”  
  
The tentative _'if you want to'_ hung in McCoy's tone rather than in its own words. Jim didn't owe him anything, even if he said he wanted to give them a shot and they just had sex. They were both grown men and McCoy was more than pleased to settle in with the fact that they were finally speaking again, even if the sex had been a bonus he thoroughly enjoyed.  
  
“Yeah. It's a date.” Jim sighed in contentment. The details would come later, but they could wait. Life was good.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a planned sequel for this but got distracted from it and never followed through. I'm not sure if I will, but I do have a mostly finished draft to build off of.


End file.
